The Billionaire Next Door (Billionaire Bad Boys #2)(28)

She wasn’t in Crane Tower forever. Her job as Adonis’s caregiver would end, and then she’d be gone. Tag wasn’t letting her go without at least getting her phone number.

He knocked, rolling his shoulders and licking his lips in preparation to see her. The front door opened to her wearing tight black stretchy pants and a long pink sweater. Her blond hair flowed over her shoulders, and her blue eyes went wide and innocent. Every inch of him wanted to sweep her into his arms and kiss her senseless.

So he did.

He looped an arm around her waist and pulled her against his body. Small hands met his shoulders, and he lowered his lips to hers to taste that pout. It was the briefest touch of their lips but tightened every muscle in his body.

She was warm. She was soft. She tasted better than he could’ve imagined.

He lowered her to her heels, pulled his lips away, and slid his hands from her back.

“Been thinking about kissing you for roughly fifteen hours,” he said, looking down at her.

Her fingers had gone to her lips, but she remained speechless. Which made him uncharacteristically nervous since he couldn’t tell if she’d liked it.

Surely she’d liked it.

“Um…” She let out a little breath that sounded like a laugh. “Did you…want to come in?”

Okay. Definitely, he was off script here. By now, they should be ravishing each other, hands and limbs everywhere. He wasn’t a total pig, he didn’t expect to get laid after kiss number one, but he expected her reaction to be at least…favorable?

“Yeah. Okay.” He took an awkward step forward as she stepped back. He’d come to get answers, but so far was only left with questions.

“I have beer and wine.”

The offer of a drink was a good sign. “Beer.”

“I was hoping you’d stop by,” she said from behind the refrigerator door.

“Oh, yeah?” Another good sign. He relaxed some, leaning a hip on the kitchen counter.

“I wrote down the things I love and the things I don’t like about the bars where I’ve worked. I thought it would help with your plans.”

Right. The bar plans. That kiss had erased his short-term memory.

He accepted the beer bottle with a tight smile. Refocus, he told his other head, the one currently stuck on Seduce the Girl. Evidently, Rachel didn’t want to be seduced. Not tonight anyway. Her blasé reaction had seriously messed with his head.

The one on his shoulders.

She came to him next, unfolding the papers and flattening them on the counter. A soft scent wafted from her hair and mingled with his senses. Her arm brushed his and his legs went rigid.

“I borrowed paper from the printer at work.” She looked up at him with a sheepish and completely adorable smile.

Damn. He wanted to kiss her again. His gaze went to her lips, but she averted her eyes quickly. He’d pick his timing more carefully the next time.

“You worked at the Winshop in Miami?” he asked, his eyes landing on her neat, curly penmanship. Winshop Luxury Hotels was one of Crane Hotels’ major competitors.

“Very briefly, I was the bar manager.” She waved a hand. “It was my first attempt to escape Ohio. I thought Florida might be for me, so I followed a friend down there and moved in with her. Six months later, I was home and decided a college degree was a better idea.”

Impressive.

“You’re one up on me, Dimples. I never did the college thing.”

“No?” Her brow dented. “I assumed that’s how you knew Lucas.”

“Oh, we trolled the college bars, but I never cracked the books.”

Her eyes slipped to one side and he realized bringing up his days of picking up girls in bars was not to his favor.

“So the Winshop,” he said, choppily steering the conversation back to where he’d untethered it.

“Yes. The Winshop. I learned a lot there. Granted, it was six or seven years ago, but I bet I could share some trade secrets.” She winked conspiratorially, pale lashes closing over one blue eye, and he shook his head to reset his brain.

“Yeah, I bet you could,” he said, his voice low, his mind back on scooping her up again and seeing how many tricks he could teach her with his tongue. The attraction wasn’t solely physical, but the desire to take care of her, to make her feel incredible, encompassed every moment he was with her. The urge had surpassed him getting laid or having a night of fun. He wanted to crack her open, know why she liked the things she liked.

Which definitely put him in where the hell am I? territory. He wiped his brow, unsurprised to find a few beads of sweat there.

She frowned, so he refocused on the papers.

He couldn’t remember a time he’d struck out this badly. And Rachel wasn’t a chick in a bar. She was in her house, or, well, her temporary house. He should have more game than this.

“This is great, Rachel, thanks.”

“No problem. I figure if you want to pick my brain, this will give you a starting point.” She offered him a bottle opener and he realized he hadn’t thought to take a drink of the beer she’d given him. “What are your plans tonight?”

Meeting her curious gaze, he considered his plans were whatever she was willing to do with him. A distant warning siren blared in his head. He wasn’t calling the shots when it came to her. Was that why he was so thrown?